


Nightmares

by Janekfan



Series: TMA prompt fics [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Couch Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Eye Powers, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Sleep, Sleepy Cuddles, The Lonely - Freeform, prompt, soft things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27888373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janekfan/pseuds/Janekfan
Summary: Prompt! any h/c fic with instances of jon & martin comforting eachother when the other wakes up from a nightmare bc G-d are those boys Traumatized And In Love...
Series: TMA prompt fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082912
Comments: 18
Kudos: 114





	Nightmares

The safehouse was a godsend. A place that was even halfway safe where, finally, Martin and Jon could afford to break in front of one another. Stilted, awkward quiet, followed by exhaustion, followed by sleep, followed by tears and confessions and whispered adorations spoken only in the velvet dark.

Followed by nightmares. 

Jon didn't put much stock into his own. More often than not they were about the statements of others, replayed over and over again in his mind’s Eye, feeding him through their fear. Seldom were they awful for him, not anymore. Now there was only guilt. 

But Martin’s. 

Bitter cold, bitter loneliness, and a fading prior to Jon waking to Martin beside him, frozen and so stiff he was like ice. It surprised Jon when the tears slipping so silently down his cheeks weren’t trails of frost. He pulled him close, shivering in turn, pressing soft kisses into his hair, behind his ears, over closed eyes and the bridge of his nose. Chaste to his lips, his neck, leaving warmth wherever he touched and daring the cold to encroach again. Jon could see the faint outline of his own crossed legs beneath Martin as the Lonely tried harder to take control, to push him back onto that beach and out to sea. 

“Martin, Martin, my darling.” Tangling their limbs together, able to see his own gasping breath in the air before him. It mingled, stolen, with the mist creeping into the room through cracks in the floor, the uninsulated sill, drifting down from the ceiling and Jon was so afraid to let go because he was afraid he’d never find him again. “Come back to me, come back to me.” Pale, hollow eyes the color of the moon gazed up at him, otherwise vacant and void, and Jon cupped his jaw, stroked over the stubble and gripped him even tighter. “Hullo, love.” It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear it, hear him, but the Lonely could. “I have you.” Abhorrent green reflected off the fog, multiplied, bright, burning, and it recoiled like a living thing. “And _you_ won’t have him again.” Chilly fingers ghosted along his back, Martin, curling closer and holding on tight. “You who stand among the crowd and feel nothing, surrounded by those who will never understand what it means to be alone. Forgotten, fading, while you crave connection beyond superficiality. You who watch the world pass by, ensnaring the hapless with promises of peace and tranquility. _Never. Again._ Like the beacon of a lighthouse, Jon’s Watching seared away the smothering miasma and panting, he blinked hard before turning his attention to the man in his lap.

“ _Jon_.” Choked sob bare more than a whisper, but there was warmth there, again in his arms, blossoming under questing fingers, Martin’s eyes bright with tears.

“ _Martin_.” The same relief echoed back, swallowed between a watery kiss. 

“You should let me go.” Martin pushed his face into the scarred skin of Jon’s shoulder even as he spoke and he only hugged him harder. 

“I will never.” Martin was trapped between, stuck in a delicate place and Jon was prepared to reassure him until he ran out of life or breath, whichever came first. 

“I deserve it.” Damp lashes fluttered against Jon’s neck. 

“You don’t.” 

“I _abandoned_ you.” 

“Oh, darling,” Gentle, he lifted Martin’s chin, looked into him, flecked green reflected back. “You _saved_ me.” 

“I’ll only hurt you.” But he didn’t sound so sure anymore. 

“I’m here. I’m here and I will never let you go, Martin Blackwood.” Jon wished there was a way to transfer the Knowing into his mind, just to alleviate this fear. Instead, he held him close, whispering soft things. Sweet things. 

True things. 

They should be safe here from Eli-- _Jonah_. 

But they are not safe from themselves. 

And Jon hasn’t been sleeping. 

He can’t, Martin knows, having appointed himself Watcher and that meant he had to keep Watch. Keep the Lonely away and it made Martin’s heart ache in his chest as he watched Jon run himself further into the ground. 

While he finished the washing up, he left Jon asleep on the couch, wrapped in the softest blanket Martin could find when he finally, _finally_ had no choice but to slip under. The man looked tired on the best of days, gaunt and drawn and hungry, but now there was charcoal smudged dark under his eyes and shadows pooling in the hollows of his cheeks. 

“Nooo…” Immediately, Martin set down the plate in his hands. “No no nononono…” Murmuring, frantic and fast, exhaustion laid thick over every slurred syllable, and Martin was lifting him up, drawing him close and when the fear and confusion finally flooded his face, he was there. 

“Martin.” His expression crumpled, tears welled up and spilled over in the wake of such profound weariness. 

“I’m here, darling.” Jon clung weakly, pulling himself flush so he could hide in his throat and Martin carded careful fingers through tangled hair. “Come now, lay down, love.” But his eyes were darting around the room, looking in the corners, looking for the fog come to take Martin away from him. “Hush now, Jon.” Martin held tight to narrow shoulders practically thrumming with distress and when he tried to coax him to lay down, to rest, he resisted. “It’s alright, we’re alright.” Gently, he guided his head to his thigh and in the end Jon was too tired to resist any longer. “S’okay, love.” Slowly, softly, he stroked over his cheek, shaking his head fondly at the fight Jon was putting up with heavy lashes. “Just close your eyes for a moment and breathe.” Jon heaved in a deep lungful of air like he’d been drowning, shuddering like he couldn’t get enough now that he’d remembered. “Deep breaths, in and out. Lovely. Just like that.” Running light fingertips over fluttering lids just once. “That’s perfect.” He bent to kiss his sleeping face. “You’re perfect.”


End file.
